I Remember
by Junipertree
Summary: PG13 for some language. A nintey-year-old, half-senile Firesong remrmbers the golden days. Before this I hadn't known it was possible to do a humor-drama...


Umm… this is just kind of a bizarre idea I had when I finished reading Storms

Umm… this is just kind of a bizarre idea I had when I finished reading Storms. Very, very weird.

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I Remember

Firesong k'Treva growled as the spoonful of applesauce was pushed at his face. He was sitting in a wheeled chair in his rooms, being fed like a baby.

"I was a great mage, you know," he told his caretaker. "A Healing Adept. I was one of the most powerful in the world…"

The woman merely smiled, amused. "I was pampered like a pussy," He continued. "I had everything- power, beauty…"

The woman smiled some more, wondering if his old scarred face was ever beautiful. "I killed Mornelithe Falconsbane. Ma'ar! I defeated the Adept that even Urtho could not vanquish!" 

He became suddenly angry. "Nobody believes me any more! Me! The one who defeated the rogue Heartstone! Me! The one who aided in the defeat of the Final Storm!" he pounded his fist on the arm of the chair. "I was beautiful once, woman. Women would throw themselves at me. Not that I wanted them, of course." He smiled wistfully. "I had looks only rivaled by Vanyel. But heck, he was my ancestor!"

The woman rolled her eyes. _Yeah right, _she thought. _Like this old fogy's ancestor was the great Herald-Mage Vanyel._

"You don't believe me!" Firesong hissed. "Three score years ago everyone knew the name of Firesong k'Treva! And now look at me!" he pounded the arm of the chair again. "A hapless puppy in a wheelchair! My life is gone- all gone!" he quivered. "It was gone when Silverfox died. What have I now?" he laughed sardonically. "A wheelchair and a bowl of applesauce. That's all that is left to the Healing Adept Firesong k'Treva!"

"It all ended at the Last Storm," he continued. "Next to Karal (damn him- still) I had the most dangerous job in the group. Need destroyed me! Look what she did to me!" he put his hands up to his face. "That bloody sword exploded in my face. Who would want me for a bedpartner now?" he put his face in his hands. "The only reason I stayed alive was for Silverfox. Not after An'desha… It still hurts. They're all wrong." He turned his face away from the spoon. "Time doesn't heal wounds."

An old, feeble firebird came to light on his shoulder, more gray than white. Firesong buried his fingers in the bird's feathers, cooing to it. "Only Aya remembers," he murmured. "See his white feathers? It's because he is the bondbird of an Adept, with the magic of the nodes flowing through him." He threw his silver hair over his shoulder. "It used to be white with magic, not with age. Now?" he laughed again. "Now I can no more to Great Magics than I can walk." Something in his eyes flickered. "Walk… Yes!" he turned on his nurse with fury. "You'll never believe me! You'll never admit that once I had great powers- great beauty- once I was young! I will be young again!"

Then the old mage stood up, the man who hadn't walked for nearly three years. "They're all dead!" he yelled. "All of them! Silverfox, Darkwind, hell, when Elspeth committed suicide… I knew Queen Selenay! I knew Solaris, the Son of the Sun! I knew Tremane, the King of Hardorn! But now- they're all dead!" he took a few tottering steps. "Even Karal and his honey Natoli are dead! I outlived them all!" a whirled around at the nurse. "It must run in the family! After all, Van did stick around for hundreds of years after he died. Maybe I'll go haunt a forest somewhere!"

"I was best friends with Avatars!" he ranted. "Tre'valen! Dawnfire! I knew them both! How many people have seen the great Karsite Firecats! I met _two! _But they're dead! And they aren't Heralds, Nurse-o-mine. They won't come back as white horses. I was the bearer of a bloody mage in a talking sword! And I regret it! I wish that fucking hunk of metal had never been forged! To the seven hells with it!"

He was yelling at the top of his voice. "Kill me, woman! Rip me to shreds!" when she didn't move, he extended both hands above his head, right when someone entered the room.

He wore the garb of a Shin'a'in shaman, bent over with age. "Firesong!" An'desha cried.

But it was too late. Firesong's hands burst into flame, and the flames crawled down the sleeves of his shirt to eat away at his skin. His eyes twinkled at his former lover. "Hey, Annie! He chuckled. "I always told you I'd live up to my use-name! _Fire_song, get it?"

He broke into hysterical laughter. "Hey, that Firestorm guy ended this way. I'm dying like a famous man in history!" he giggled gleefully. "Hey- someone rip me to shreds- I'll die like Van!" More magic flooded into the room, and Firesong's body started to fall apart.

"There ya go, everybody!" he yelled. "Now I'm dying like Firestorm _and_ Vanyel! Makes you think great thoughts, doesn't it?" he laughed uncontrollably. "Come to think of it- I'm laughing. Don't you think I'm dying like- like- like Falconsbane?" 

And with those last words, a mourning keen came from Aya before he collapsed on his bondmate, and Firesong k'Treva died.

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Weird, ain't it? I'm twisted. Please review!


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